


Forcing Color

by saraid



Series: Knights Errant [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:32:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point you have to stop worrying and just accept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forcing Color

The absence of pain was far more meaningful than the pain itself had been. The pain had meant he was too far from his lover, his mate, and the fact that it was gone could only mean that his mate had come to him. Just as he'd said he would. 

"You abandoned a diplomatic mission!" The angry voice was hard to place, and Qui-Gon didn't really care who it was. All that mattered was the one that answered. 

"I did, and I am willing to accept whatever punishment the Council ascribes." Obi-Wan spoke quietly, but firmly. He held his place with the quiet dignity Qui-Gon had always admired in him. 

"There is no question of punishment." Another voice, a woman's, cut in. "It is clear that the Force moved you to this action, but the question remain; why would it do so? A certain closeness with your former master is expected, but to come running to his side when he is ill? It feels wrong." 

"There is nothing wrong here." Would Obi-Wan dare? He would and he did, interjecting the softest touch of Force-will into his words. Did he think to use the mind trick on Council members? If he could have, Qui-Gon would have laughed aloud, he was so pleased with his lover. Once he had told Obi-Wan that pompous dignity existed only to be pricked, and apparently the younger man had taken him at his word. "I am where I'm supposed to be. Anyone who can feel the Force can feel that." The young knight finished without a change of tone or inflection. 

So much could be said with a shading of tone, or emphasis. Now Qui-Gon heard the disgruntled amusement in the woman's voice - was it Adi? - as she replied. 

"I have agreed that the Force wills your presence here, Knight Kenobi. Do not reach higher than your head, you might fall on your face." She scolded with a warning meant for creche children. 

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was hiding a wry smile, Qui-Gon could just tell. 

"I will make my preliminary report to the Council." She was all business now. "We will keep our vision directed at your Master's recovery, but take no action at this time. Care for him. Expect regular visits from others on the Council, as we all seek our own answers." 

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan said again, no longer amused. 

There were a few sounds - soft footfalls, a door opening and closing, the rustle of cloth. 

And then the bed creaked, a familiar noise, and Qui-Gon realized he was back in his quarters, in his own bed, and Obi-Wan was sliding up behind him, an arm slipped around his master's broad chest, the younger man's lips pressed to the point of Qui-Gon's shoulder. 

/I know you are awake./ Still faintly amused, but worried as well. /Would you do me a favor and wake completely? This continued sleep worries me./ 

/I do not wish to worry you, Obi. I will try to wake./ 

/Slowly, do not shock your system any more than it has already been./ His lover warned. 

Instead of answering, Qui-Gon began testing his senses, and his body's reactions. Muscle aches and stiffness seemed to be the biggest complaint, but his head felt thick and heavy as well. There was a sharp band of pain across his chest that he couldn't explain. It expanded as he inhaled and exhaled, the pain rising and falling with that movement. Surprised by it, he paused and studied it for a moment. Obi-Wan's hands slid over his smooth skin and where they touched the pain eased and his breathing grew gentler as those gentle hands stroked. 

/I've never felt anything like that./ Qui-Gon told the younger man, waking further. 

/I've been feeling it since we broke contact./ Obi-Wan replied, kissing Qui-Gon's neck softly. The older man got a quick mental touch that told him how it felt, to kiss him there; salty, tender, with wisps of hair tickling Obi-Wan's face. 

/I did not mean to worry you./ He said again, putting more strength behind it now that he knew just how concerned Obi-Wan had been. 

/I was...concerned, but never frightened, Qui./ His lover told him, continuing to kiss his neck, and shoulders, and let him know what it felt like to do that, to kiss him there, and to hold him. The slow, steady throb of Qui-Gon's heart beneath his palm. /I knew you were waiting for me./ 

/I did wait./ 

/It took longer than I wanted to get here, and the Snapdagon ambassadors were highly displeased when I left... but I came as soon as I could./ 

/I knew you were coming./ Qui-Gon felt his heart swell as he had the chance to sooth his lover, offering the same comfort and ease Obi-Wan offered him. Showing him the comfort of being held, touched with shy amusement, that he should feel this way at his age. The joy he took in the warmth that surrounded him, and the sure knowledge that it was always his, whenever he wanted or needed it. 

/Too old to be held?/ Obi-Wan scoffed. /Big tough Jedi Master can't let himself be taken care of once in a while. Not without a crisis or a catastrophe to justify it./ His arms tightened around Qui-Gon, who felt Obi-Wan's amusement and his sorrow, that he hadn't offered this sooner. It gave him the strength to open his eyes, lids fluttering, and at last he could look at his lover, look up, as Obi-Wan raised on an elbow behind him and looked down at him. 

"I've always been the one taking care of you." Qui-Gon said softly, "Unless I was injured, or somehow incapacitated, it was my place, to care for you." 

"And it made you feel good, didn't it?" Obi-Wan asked, quietly serious, one hand freeing itself from the clasp on Qui-Gon's chest and rising to tenderly stroke hair back from his face. 

Qui-Gon nodded, feeling a faint tinge of color heat his skin. 

"Then allow me to experience that feeling too, Qui. Let me take care of you and feel good for it." 

"Yes, luidseis." He grinned just a little bit when he saw the expression on Obi-Wan's face. "I told you there was a word for us. Apparently I found it while I was sleeping." 

"Where does it come from, and what does it mean?" Obi-Wan laughed, leaning to nuzzle Qui-Gon's cheek, which was grizzled with too much stubble, he needed a shave before his face was hidden behind beard. Once, when he was younger and had wanted to look older, he had allowed it to grow, covering his cheeks and the sides of his mouth, and found that he did not like the sight of it in the mirror, the sensation of hiding behind the thick hair. So he had shaved, compromising with himself, retaining only the chin and fringes. 

"It must be a word from my home planet. I stopped thinking in that language when I was four or five. I believe it means love-mate or something similar. It came to me, and I decided it was the right word." 

"So the Force gave you the word, eh?" Obi-Wan looked doubtful, but he was smiling, that naughty grin that made Qui-Gon's heart turn over. "Luidseis. It feels odd upon my tongue, but I like it." 

"Good. It is ours. Now tell me how long I have been sleeping?" 

He felt Obi-Wan snuggle back down and wriggled his own ass backwards into the heated cradle of his lover's hips, bringing his hands up to cover the one Obi-Wan had left on his chest. A deep breath, the pain in his chest spiking but bearable, and then he relaxed into the pillow, which was warm against his skin and crushed to half its size. Oddly, Obi-Wan wasn't aroused, his cock wasn't even hard, but Qui-Gon wasn't worried about it. That would come later, when he was ready for it. Their bodies would tell them. 

/Nearly three weeks./ Obi-Wan sounded as if simply saying it made him tired. 

Because he had switched back to mind speech Qui-Gon did as well. 

/I had no idea. Was I asleep the whole time?/ Searching his mind, he found vague memories of drifting, floating, interspersed with glimpses of his lover in places he himself had not been. 

/An unnatural sleep, the healers called it. They did not say coma, but I think that's only because no injury preceded it./ Obi- Wan's hands stroked his chest and belly, palms flattened, spreading to touch as much flesh as possible. Wherever they passed warmth followed. 

A sudden surge of nausea and Qui-Gon swallowed convulsively, the taste of bile burning his throat, making it hard to breathe, the air tainted with it, and the betrayal that prompted it, the memory starkly bright in his mind, taking up his consciousness 

/I - I - Obi - / He was going to lose control, and the he was ashamed, to be so weak in his lover's arms, and ashamed of *being* ashamed, an emotion beneath a Jedi Master's dignity. 

/Dignity be damned, lover./ Obi-Wan sounded sad but amused as he maneuvered Qui-Gon's head over the edge of the bed, where a basin waited, to his relief. He retched and gagged as thin greenish fluid drooled from his open mouth. Gentle hands smoothed his hair back and eased the lines that painfully tightened his face, until it was over and he could breathe between gasps, the taste still in his mouth, foul. 

What had he done? What had he been thinking? To even imagine that his body would allow anyone but Obi-Wan to touch it ever again. No matter his friend's pain or the need to keep their relationship hidden.... a glass of cool water was touched to his lips, and he sipped, swirled it in his mouth, spat. When it returned, offering more, he swallowed greedily, relieved. 

/We will be found out./ He managed to say, his thought crossing the millimeters between them with more effort than it should have taken. 

/Of course. We already knew that./ Obi-Wan's hands resumed their stroking, soothing path as he pressed to Qui-Gon's side. /It's only a matter of time. There is no denying what has happened between us./ 

/And no regretting it./ Feeling the pain in his chest begin to subside again, the older man felt an urge, almost instinctual, and went with it, rolling to his side with an effort, stiff muscles protesting, and took Obi-Wan into his arms, holding him as tightly as he could. The long sleep had weakened him, but not enough that he was worried about it. Soon he would be as strong as ever, strong enough to stand beside his lover and meet whatever the Force would send their way. 

/What do you think you're doing?/ Still amused, perhaps more so, Obi-Wan seemed to be trying to sound indignant, but he responded to the embrace eagerly, wrapping his body tight to Qui- Gon's and pulling him closer. After a moment of squirming they were pressed together from collarbones to toes, warmth from both bodies rising almost visibly in the air. 

"I need to be close to you." Qui-Gon answered, a whispered gulp, then a sigh as he shut his eyes. The vulnerability he felt was new, the rawness of the need was not. "I betrayed you. I was prepared to share with another that which is only yours." The words, oddly formal as they were, felt right on his tongue as he spoke them. There seemed to be some accepted way to do this. Accepted by the Force, perhaps, or just his own diplomat's soul. 

"And I've forgiven you." No formal phrasing for his lover. Though Obi-Wan was an excellent negotiator and might one day surpass him as a diplomat, as a Jedi altogether, at this time he was still more young man than Jedi when it came to speaking privately. "I understand why you made the decision you did. Now we just need to work on getting you well, and understanding this thing between us before one of us is really hurt by it." His arms tightened around Qui-Gon's body and the older man bit back a gasp as the movement sent a sharp pain rippling through him, sore muscles protesting the pressure. But Obi-Wan sensed it, and loosened his grip immediately, pressing his lips against Qui-Gon's neck and murmuring "Sorry, love." 

"It's nothing." His own reply was indistinct. Somehow the pain seemed to have woken other parts of his body; he was erect in seconds, and his breathing deepened. When he stroked a hand through Obi-Wan's hair, it trembled."Can we -?" Unsure what he was asking, what he could do, what they should do, he deferred to his lover. His own mind was not yet clear and talking was not what he wanted now. 

"Of course." Tilting his head up, Obi-Wan kissed him, warm lips on Qui-Gon's own, clever hands smoothing and molding the larger body to fit tighter with the smaller one. He was aroused as well, the hot length of silky flesh on Qui-Gon's thigh making the older man shudder. "I don't think we can't." 

"No." Qui-Gon gasped in agreement, his mind swamped by the sensations it was receiving. /Sith./ He thought, with a touch of despair. /It's stronger than ever. Do we have the shield...?/ Though he hadn't been trying to send his thoughts, it was clear that Obi- Wan had heard them. There would be no such thing as privacy between them ever again, but he did not mourn the loss. 

/No shield./ Obi-Wan replied tenderly. /I don't think either of us could stand it this time. Today we will join, and anyone who is listening will know, but there will be no more secrecy./ His hands gripped Qui-Gon's face as he melded their mouths together. 

/You are right, luedsis./ Agreeing, feeling both joy and trepidation, Qui-Gon returned the intensity, and they bound themselves together on the bed, bodies straining together, flesh trying to become one. 

Their emotions colored the Force around them, swaths of red and blue sparked by bolts of amber and white, the energy roiled. Here, in the Temple, it was so concentrated that everything they put out was doubled and tripled before it was absorbed, and there was no way any Force-sensitive wasn't going to feel that, be aware of it. 

/Good thing the creche is shielded./ Obi-Wan was only half- joking, tearing himself away from his lover to gently urge the larger man to turn over, away, on his side. Qui-Gon did, and Obi-Wan's hands were on his buttocks, spreading them, soothing him. He was ready, he had always been ready, but the younger man paused, took a few moments to use the Force, to be sure he could be taken without pain, and Qui-Gon growled in frustration, pushing himself back into those hands. 

Lips on his neck opened wide and teeth bit down, not too gently, and a firm order, a emotional push, told him to be still. 

/Allow me to be careful./ There was faint laughter beneath the words, and Qui-Gon snorted. He, too, saw the irony of that statement. Careful used to mean that they tried to avoid being caught - this time it meant only that Obi-Wan didn't want to hurt him. 

/Yes./ He told his lover, willing his body to stillness. The trembling he had only been vaguely aware of eased and he held, poised on the brink. 

More kisses to his neck and shoulder, sweet reminders of who touched him, reassurance he didn't need, and then the hot, blunt pressure that threatened to split him wide. Instead of resisting, he welcomed it, gave himself over to it, and his body opened to the invader like a flower to the sun. 

A groan, deep-voiced but not his own. Obi-Wan, holding him tightly, sliding fully into Qui-Gon's body, until they were as close as two fragile humans could be. 

The length inside him pulsed, and he groaned, not trying to smother the sound, but Obi-Wan just held him and didn't move. 

/What are you waiting for?/ Qui-Gon asked, a shudder running through him. /I need - I need you to move - / 

"Shhh." A syllable hissed into his hair. /As soon as I can move without exploding, I will, love./ 

"I don't care." Qui-Gon said aloud, and then louder, a sense of freedom growing in his chest. "I don't care - come, luedis, and then we'll do it again!" A wave of laughter, deep and sweet, rolled out of him, and it was matched by Obi-Wan's quicksilver chuckle, interspersed with gasps for control. 

"As you wish, Master." He spoke between chuckles. Then without nay other warning, his hands grabbed Qui-Gon's hips and he pulled himself almost free, and shot back in. 

Qui-Gon let his head fall back and he shouted his relief to the Force. With the completion of that single stroke they both reached orgasm, his cock jerking on his belly, spraying him with warm seed, Obi-Wan's thickening inside him and pumping, the younger man's hips snapping against his back. 

"Ah, Gods." Obi-Wan moaned, slumping against him. 

"Ah." Qui-Gon managed, boneless. He couldn't remember having ever felt this way. Completely relaxed. Content, at a depth he wasn't even aware he possessed. 

/A miracle.../ Obi-Wan mumbled in his mind.The younger man seemed almost asleep. 

His body protested, it did not want to move yet. In fact, it tried to refuse, but he insisted, and fifty-plus years of making it do what he wanted won out over the orgasm-produced lethargy, and he turned over. The movement caused Obi-Wan's shaft to pull free, but there was no pain, and he held his lover close, kissing him gently. 

/Obi. Obi-love, wake up. We must decide what we are going to do when the inevitable happens./ 

"Just hold me, and it'll all be okay." Obi-Wan nuzzled under his chin, shifting to be as close as they could again, in this new position. 

"I don't know about that. The universe doesn't usually work that way." Willing to be convinced, but trying to make himself do what he needed to. "This is lovely, but there are things we need to do. Plans we need to make." 

"Later?" More awake now, the word was hopeful, but echoed doubt. He already knew he was going to be awakened, it was there in his voice. Qui-Gon smiled ruefully and covered Obi- Wan's mouth with his own. His tongue thrust deep, slow and sweet, he made love to his lover's mouth. 

/Someone will be here to check on us soon./ 

/After that I'm sure of it./ There was a hint of embarrassment in Obi-Wan's mind, and Qui-Gon touched it with his own, tasted it, chuckled silently. 

/I've never come that fast before either. It was more a factor of the circumstances than a failing of control on your part./ He teased his lover, who returned it with a soft groan that escaped at the edges of the consuming kiss. Qui-Gon's mouth shifted, re-sealed over Obi-Wan's, lapping at the roof with his tongue, eager to taste every centimeter. Tiny bubbles escaped at the corners and they tickled and he laughed, a deep sound that resounded between them, smothered as it was on his lover's wide-parted lips. This was so much more than a kiss. 

It continued, Obi-Wan moving impossibly closer, his arms as hard and tight around Qui-Gon as the older man's were around him, both of them breathing easily, willing, even eager, to stay in this place, this way, for as long as the Force would let them. 

And then it faded. The intensity eased, and it became just a kiss once more. They drew back simultaneously, a little bit at a time, until they were only touching lightly, little kisses, quick and soft and sweet. Obi-Wan pressed one to the once-broken bridge of Qui-Gon's nose and a chuckle bounced between them, the older man closing his eyes and using that same nose to nuzzle the younger's smooth high forehead and arched brows. 

"We're getting sappy." Obi-Wan observed, not sounding particularly distressed by the thought. 

"I think we've earned it." 

"You mentioned plans we need to make?" Pulling away enough to meet the blue eyes, Obi-Wan grinned, that sly, cocky grin his Master loved so much. 

"I have been thinking, about what we might do. If the Council is not willing to see reason." 

"Are you going to share these thoughts with me?" Obi-Wan sat, both of his hands smoothing Qui-Gon's hair - tangled and mussed from the long sleep and lovemaking - and his smile softened. 

"No." A hand caught Obi-Wan's, and the voice in his head was hesitant. /It would be best if I kept them to myself until we're forced to reveal them. A bargaining chip. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go out into the Temple, and someone might catch a glimpse of them.../ His hand tightened, and he looked sad. 

Obi-Wan kissed the frown lines that marred his high forehead and the smile widened. 

"I trust you, love. Whatever you think is best, that's what we'll do." 

"I've dreamed of those words." Qui-Gon replied, only half- joking. He threw a few images from the past to his lover, times when Obi-Wan the Padawan had doubted him, and there had been tension between them because of it. 

"That was then." The younger man said, shifting to leave the bed, tucking the covers tightly over Qui-Gon, only the hand he held emerging from them. 

"This is now." Qui-Gon agreed. "I need to bathe." "Let me accomplish my errands first, and then I will come back and bathe with you. You aren't fully recovered yet." 

Qui-Gon nodded, watching as Obi-Wan stood and reached for his clothes, draped neatly over a chair beside the bed. He drssed, and Qui-Gon finally looked about the room. His room. 

It looked as it always did. Neat and spare, much the way he lived his life. His only indulgence were the shelves of real books that crowded the common room, and the occasional splurge in dining. But something had changed. 

Focussing, it began to dawn on him, slowly. The walls. 

The walls were no longer the simple creamy-grey shade they had always been. Painted every five years, as was every other room in the Temple, some more frequently, they had been this standardized shade for as long as he could remember. Another color might have been used in his infancy, but past that, always this color. That color. 

But now there wa something else. 

"Look." He breathed to Obi-Wan, who knelt on the bed and took the hand he reached, pointing to the walls. "Look, Obi." 

"Qui." His lover sighed, and leaned to kiss him, both of them keeping their eyes open, heads turned awkardly to keep staring at the colors that flowed over or in the painted surfaces; faint touches of pale red and blue, soothing, ouched with green and white. The colors the Force had churned with during their insane kiss. It was barely there, barely noticeable, unles you looked directly at them. "What does it mean?" 

"I don't know." Sitting, he pulled his lover close and held him while they watched the colors flow. "But you're going to have to find out." 

******* 

It was growing late, well past dark. With a sigh Qui-Gon left the screen he was reading sleepily and opened the message that had just arrived over his compad. The early part of the afternoon had been spent sending the initial messages. Of the five he had approached, three had replied with interest, two of them truly encouraging. Further correspondence with the three had narrowed it down to those two, and now he was discussing the possible repercussions with them. 

'Master Jinn; I have made my position clear in this matter, but I feel that I should note that, should you pursue this course of action, there is not a substantial amount of activity to keep you and your other occupied. Perhaps this is something you should take into consideration. You would be free to expand your horizons in this situation, but I am unsure if you feel this would be a positive thing.' 

Contemplating the words, Qui-Gon allowed himself a tired smile. Then he reached for his lover, and was pleased to find him on his way back, at last. 

/I have a tremendous amount to tell you./ Obi-Wan sent. 

/Would it be easier if I simply accessed it from your memory?/ Qui-Gon was thinking of teasing, but it didn't feel right. He'd never done that, wasn't sure if it was possible. But after today, entire worlds of possibilities had opened before him. Obi-Wan followed the thought, and responded with a bubbling laugh that was half-shock. 

/Oh, you could. You could come right in and set up housekeeping, if what I've found is what we were looking for./ 

/May I?/ Asking formally, not knowing the protocol of searching his lover's memory, Qui-Gon waited. 

/Of course./ There was the definite impression that permission was not needed, and then the Jedi Master was learning what Obi-Wan had learned - and where he learned it, and in what order, and what he thought of it, as well as the way his lover learned - something he had been curious about, but had no way to test until now. As he'd always suspected, his once-apprentice was a kinesthetic learner, unusual among the Jedi, on the whole an auditory society. This need to learn through movement explained many things and he had a passing thought of presenting a paper to the Council about the different kinds of learning mechanisms. Then he turned his attention to the information he'd gathered, and lay back to sort through it while Obi-Wan turned off toward the kitchens to procure an evening meal, although it was late for that. 

Sonju. The word rang in his head, leaping out from the data Obi-Wan had gathered, making it ring. 

Sonju. He laughed at himself, for his pathetic search to find a word that told their love. His attempt had been driven by the knowledge that there *was* a word, there had to be, but he hadn't looked in the right places. 

This was what he was. What Obi-Wan was, what they were. His lover had found it, after hours of exhausting search, in an ancient text, written in a language neither of them understood. It was only when he'd scanned it into the translator that he'd realized what he had. 

/It was the cover./ Obi-Wan told him, following his thoughts. /It looked like the walls./ The walls...Qui-Gon glanced at them. The colors were still there, but faded and quiescent now. /They will become active again when we're together./ Obi-Wan told him. /Read this part, here./ He directed Qui-Gon to a section of the memories that they now shared. 

When bonded in a soul union, the Sonju will affect their surroundings through the Force. The more powerful the bonding, the stronger the effect. 

The translation was slightly stilted, stiff, as if the machine had experienced difficulty in finding the proper words in Standard. 

Permanent changes in the main environment, where the Sonju have invested their lives and hearts, can be effected. 

So it was permanent. 

/Good./ Obi-Wan told him. He was just turning onto the corridor that housed their rooms. The food was in a large box, kept warm for them thus. Several of these were made up nightly, for just such occasions, and late arrivals. If they were not used they would be given to the organization that fed the poor the next day. /I like it./ 

/As do I./ The colors were soothing, in an inexplicable fashion. Because they were made by us? 

/Made by our love./ Obi-Wan added. /Look at this - this will make you want to cry. Or laugh. I couldn't decide which./ He sighed deeply, then entered their quarters. Qui-Gon heard and felt him pause in the common room to set the table, the box remaining closed to keep the food. 

Turning his attention to the section Obi-Wan had indicated, Qui-Gon was periphally aware that the younger man was starting a bath in the small cleaning room, which held their sanitary facilities, cleaning unit, and this anachronism that most Jedi appreciated. A large tub for soaking, one of the pleasures that humans had enjoyed since the beginning of time and probably would forever. 

He scanned the section and found himself biting his lip. Indeed, the urge was to laugh, and also to cry. 

The Force would protect them. The passage made that clear, even if some of it was translated gibberish. All of those times they had come together and suffered for it... all unnecessary. 

The Force would protect them. Apparently had been protecting them, because no one had shown up at the door yet, demanding an explanation for the energy they had broadcast earlier. Somehow it was restraining the effect to this room. After time it would spread to the other rooms of their quarters, at least the ones that were used by them both frequently, and perhaps someday to other places where they spent much time together. But for now, they were safe here. 

"All that pain, wasted." Obi-Wan spoke from the doorway. 

"This does not mean the no one will find out." Qui-Gon told him, sitting up again carefully. The day of rest had eased much of the ache he had woken with. And Obi-Wan knew that, but he still came forward and helped his love out of the bed, treating him gently, but not so much as to make him angry at it. "Easy on the old man, eh?" Qui-Gon teased, wanting to see laughter on that normally solemn face. It was always such a startling change, from Jedi to man. 

"Not as old as you're going to be." Obi-Wan granted his wish, face lighting in a smile that was half-naughty, half-resigned. An eyebrow came up and he again directed Qui-Gon to a section of the memories. 

After studying them for a moment, Qui-Gon looked at his lover and leaned to wrap his arms around him. The rustle of Obi- Wan's cloak was soft, and the material felt warm against his own bare skin. 

"I...I don't..." Giving up on words, he pressed himself closer to the warm body in his arms, eyes closing. /I never imagined that, Sonju./ He whispered in his mind. His lifespan had lengthened significantly in the last few hours. If they had completed the union - and the Force-drawn colors in the walls argued that they had - then they would both live longer than normal humans. Longer than Jedi humans. 

/Not as long as Master Yoda, I suspect./ Obi-Wan teased and comforted at the same time. 

/Thank the Force for small favors./ A chuckle broke from his closed mouth, and he opened his eyes as it grew to a laugh. "We are truly useless, my Obi." He managed between bursts. "If we had trusted ourselves enough to seek this knowledge earlier, we would have avoided much heartache and pain." 

"But there was no way we could know." They shared a kiss, sweet and fulfilling. "The risk was so great." 

"Any risk was worth it. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize that." 

/It wasn't just you./ Obi-Wan scolded as the kiss deepened. The movement made the hairs on Qui-Gon's belly pull, a twinge of discomfort, and he remembered that he hadn't cleaned himself very well after their lovemaking. /The bath should be full now./ 

/I want to hold you and feel warmth surrounding us./ Qui- Gon told him, releasing him so they could walk through the rooms. Not touching, shoulder-to-shoulder, their usual stance. 

"There are some other things." Obi-Wan spoke as he undressed, dropping his tunics and leggings into the disposal that would take them to the main laundry. "Things we need to think about, and plan for." 

"Speaking of plans...ahhhh..." Slowly lowering himself into the oiled water, just this side of scalding, he sighed in appreciation and sank in carefully. 

"Let me tell you this first, then we'll switch to the results of your efforts." The younger man said and his lover could feel that he wanted to attempt to get into Qui-Gon's memories as the older man had gotten into his. "From what I understood, the sex is required. Not that I'm complaining - but that must have been one of the reasons it was so hard for us. We'll need to join physically at that level fairly regularly from now on." 

"Why does it have to be sex?" Watching as Obi-Wan finished undressing, holding out his arms as the younger man approached the tub, he was gratified when the slender, muscled body slid into them and could be held close, the heat bringing an instant flush to the fair skin. /Not that I'm complaining./ He teased and repealed the words Obi-Wan had used. 

/Sex and fighting are about the only things that will generate enough Force-energy to have an effect./ Settling against his chest, Obi-Wan made a contented sound and relaxed wholly, going limp, trusting his lover to hold him safe. 

"mmm." Gathering him closer, accepting the charge, Qui- Gon began a gentle seduction of Obi-Wan's chest with his own hands and fingers. They were large, his hands, and he had often felt clumsy with them, as large men do, but on Obi-Wan's skin they seemed to fit. He touched nipples delicately, rolled them between his forefingers, stroked flanks beneath the water and counted muscles above it. 

It wasn't long before he reached down and found the arousal waiting for him, floating in the water, swollen and needy. Obi-Wan made a sound of pleasure when he closed his fist on it. 

/You too./ The younger man urged softly. /It's time now, I think./ 

There was no driving urgency, but Qui-Gon agreed, also ready to join again. It might not be safe in this room, but he wasn't worried about it. 

/I found two places we will be welcomed with open arms, and have something useful to do with ourselves./ 

/Good./ Obi-Wan was distracted, shifting to find a better position, raising himself so that his bottom slid over Qui-Gon's shaft, making the older man moan. /Talk later./ 

"Yesss..." Suddenly the need clawed and Qui-Gon hissed. He used his free hand to help Obi-Wan settle in his lap, aiming his cock so that it pressed firmly to the loosened pucker, and then the younger man slid down him and he was squeezed in the sweetest, hottest vice a man could know. 

"Force." He panted. 

"I know." Making a purring sound, Obi-Wan began to move, using his feet on the bottom of the tub and gripping the sides with arms spread wide. The water made the movement slippery and Qui-Gon lay his own arms along the side he was pressed against and grabbed hold, anchoring himself, bracing his own feet as he felt Obi-Wan's legs spread wider to take him in deeper. 

They were silent, stepping back from conscious thought and allowing the emotions that filled them to travel freely between them. 

There was only the movement, Obi-Wan's body sliding up and down his, taking him in and releasing him, his own thighs tensing with each downward slide that seated him deep again, his chest expanding to suck in a breath on the upstroke. 

The only sounds in the room were their deep gasps as they grabbed air when they could, and the soft splashing sounds of the water that moved with them. 

Blinking his eyes open for just a second, Qui-Gon saw that the colors had begun to emerge from the Force-cloud that was gathering above and around them. But then Obi-Wan moved quickly, trying to get the cock inside him to just the right place, and he succeeded, judging by the deep sound he made and the way his movement sped up. 

/No hurry./ Qui-Gon murmured into his mind, still using the tub to anchor them. Obi-Wan's knuckles were white where he clenched the sides. /Beautiful Obi./ He named him in his mind, not knowing that he had wanted to until he did. 

A flutter of mental laughter that couldn't be maintained, and then he, too, was caught again in their love, the surge and ebb of physical pleasure matched by the emotional. It built until he bit back a whimper, and then built higher and he let the sound go, let everything go. 

All that mattered was the heat that gripped him, the scent of the man that rode him, and the pressure that threatened to blow him apart. 

And then it did. Obi-Wan paused, shuddering, and they held themselves so for a second, two - and then the world went bright with the colors of the Force. 

It lasted long enough to satisfy him, and was over soon enough that he felt the need for more, deep in his bones, in his cells, and then it was over, and he was letting go of the tub, grabbing at Obi-Wan as the younger man slid down, pulling him close and holding him tight, his arms shaking with fatigue. 

/Hard work./ Obi-Wan mumbled, eyes still closed. He searched blindly as Qui-Gon turned him around, lips closing over a turgid nipple and sucking softly. Qui-Gon moaned loudly, hands stroking the damp hair, darkened to auburn. 

/Anything worth having is worth working for./ He answered, kissing the top of that head over and over as he sought the serenity he craved. The aftershocks were fading and he could breathe again, and a languid sense of wellbeing washed over them both. 

"This is so nice." Obi-Wan commented some time later. Qui-Gon opened his eyes and looked down at the younger man. 

"To enjoy it without the pain." He agreed. 

They started moving again then. Qui-Gon reached for the soap and cloth, Obi-Wan turned the hot tap on again as the water had begun to cool. It revived quickly with the addition of fresh, scalding hot. 

They bathed each other, teasing, tickling, exploring in a lazy fashion. They did not exchange words of love, or promises of commitment or make comments about how beautiful the other was. There was no need. It was all there, in their minds, easily read by the other. 

The colors danced around them. This time they seemed to have taken up residence in the thick ceramic that made the tub itself. The whiteness of it, which had smoothed as it became older - it had ben in these rooms for a hundred years or more, Qui-Gon was sure - the whiteness of it was spotted with swirls of the red and blue and green, and sparkles of silver. 

"Our love is pretty." Obi-Wan said when they climbed out and donned loose, warm robes to eat in. 

"Our love is beautiful." Qui-Gon corrected with a kiss to his forehead and a tousle of his hair, just combed straight. 

"Someone will notice eventually." Obi-Was didn't seem worried about the inevitable. 

"And we'll deal with it. We've made the initial arrangements." He opened the warming box and pulled out small dishes of food, and then sighed. 

There was a container of Eutrusian Snowbird, just for him. 

With a smile, because he knew that now Obi-Wan knew, and Obi-Wan understood, he put that one back into the box and closed the lid. 

"I'm very happy with the thought of never trying to eat that again." Obi-Wan said, handing him a plate piled high with various tubers and greens and the mashed yurtas he himself favored, and a chunk of well-done Panthley roast. 

"As am I." Qui-Gon told him, smiling. "As am I."


End file.
